


Stand By Me

by tbazzsnow (Artescapri)



Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst, Carry On Countdown, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, Carry on Countdown Day 20, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Greek mythology setting, M/M, Mentions of the Mage, Mythology Prompt, Orestes and Pylades - Freeform, Wayward Son parallels, mentions of Lucy and Natasha, swapped the Mage for Clytemnestra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21786985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artescapri/pseuds/tbazzsnow
Summary: Written for the myth/fairy tale prompt for Carry On Countdown Day 20. Simon and Baz as Orestes and Pylades, from the Greek myth.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Carry On Countdown 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559566
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Stand By Me

**Author's Note:**

> Gorgeous [art](https://66.media.tumblr.com/42525d8ba171ce6bbbeea08d0fd719ec/aa44a065947d1fc7-c2/s640x960/040a76fc8a41d588c000e7df0b91d87d1f79b914.jpg) for this created by @krisrix on Tumblr!

Mythology 

Orestes and Pylades

**Stand By Me**

**Baz**

Simon’s on his knees still, head in his hands, fingers knotted in his curls. I drop down next to him. “You know you had to do it, love.”

I look across the room to Penny but her eyes are fixed on him. 

“You didn’t have a choice, Simon.” I lean closer.

He grinds the words out, raw and desperate. “I didn’t have to kill him. There must have been another way.”

I touch my fingertips to his shoulder, feather light. “Your mother would still be alive if it weren’t for the Mage.” I swallow and add in a whisper. “So would mine.”

He’s rocking back and forth, amidst the shards of glass, heedless of the blood on his hands, his shirt, the pool he’s kneeling in. 

“None of us are blameless here, Simon.” Penny shuffles across the debris-strewn floor until she’s close enough to grasp his wrist. “It was all three of us.”

“He wasn’t your father!” 

Simon’s words echo through the vastness of the chamber. 

The servants are gone, fled at the first sight of Simon brandishing his sword. Penny had been the one to let us in, still trusted by the Mage, kept at his side as a way to keep Simon at bay. 

Simon would never have risked this if I hadn’t encouraged him. If I hadn’t brought him to the Oracle, made him hear the prophecy, convinced him that the words condoned his actions. 

Words from the god. Apollo himself.

 _“Slay those who slew. Atone for death by death. Shed blood for old blood shed.”_

Justice for his mother’s death.

Vengeance for mine. 

It should end here, with the Mage paying the ultimate price for his actions, for the lives he sacrificed, for how he tore our very world apart, how he used Simon--his own son--for his nefarious plans. 

It doesn’t though. 

The Furies come. They come for Simon, to exact their own retribution on him, the cycle of violence and tragedy that I thought we could finally end now following him even into exile. 

He did what Apollo told him to do. 

It seems even the gods can’t overrule the Furies. 

I stay by his side, wandering from city to city, town to town, always recognized, always driven out. 

The Furies always one step behind us. 

Penny rules in his stead but she has no power to bring him home. Mortals have no sway over the gods, not in matters of death and vengeance. 

Simon’s fate is set. 

And mine is to be with him. 

“You don’t have to do this, Baz.”

It’s an old argument, rote by now. 

“I’m not here because I have to be, Simon.”

“But you don’t need to stay with me. You didn’t kill him, I did.”

“I was with you. This is as much my fate as yours.”

He’s paler now. Thinner. Hair a mass of overgrown curls, matted and tangled. Eyes red-rimmed from too little sleep, deep set and haunted from too many nightmares.

I take his hand. Simon’s fingers are warm, callused. They fit between mine, slotting together as if made for each other. 

His grip tightens. “They’ll find us, Baz. The Furies. One of these days they’re going to catch us. I can’t bear the thought of it.”

“I’ll take care of you, Simon.”

“It’s rotten work.”*

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”*

He pulls me close, resting his head on my shoulder. “They’ll come after you too, Baz,” he whispers.

“Let them.”

The months pass. Simon grows paler still, gaunt, troubled by visions in his waking hours now as well. Day merges with night, dreamless sleep a thing of the past, his memories chasing away any chance of rest. 

He keeps his thoughts to himself, pulling back, retreating further into the despair that overwhelms him more with each turn of the moon. 

“Take me back,” he whispers as we shelter for the night in a damp and musty cave. “Take me back, Baz. I need to see that place again, the place where it all happened.”

It takes a few days for him to wear me down but in the end, I can’t say no to Simon, not even for this. I would cross every line for him. 

Even the boundaries of exile and certain death. 

I send word to Penny. 

She’s there, at the Mage’s tomb (may he rest in eternal pain), when Simon and I stumble down the path, our faces dusty and our bodies travel worn. 

It makes no difference to her—she pulls Simon into her arms and tugs me close as well. 

He lets her hold him for a moment and then he straightens his shoulders, throws them back as he juts his chin forward. 

I know this look. He’s come to some decision, some portentous resolution he’s not seen fit to share with me. 

“It’s time, Penny. It’s time to face my fate, not run from it anymore. Time to let the Furies take me and accept the punishment I am due.”

She grips his shoulders, fingers digging into his flesh. “I’m as much to blame as you, Simon. You know that.”

He shakes his head. “It’s time, Penny.” He spares me a glance, determination in every line of his body. “It’s time to let Baz be free of this burden. Free of me.” His eyes soften as they meet mine. “To live your life on your own terms, Baz, without me dragging you down.”

I pull him from Penny’s grasp, take his face in mine, thumbs brushing along his cheekbones. I do what I’ve longed to do for days, weeks, years. I touch my lips to his. “Do you think I would choose to live without you?”*

* * *

_Passages marked by an * are taken directly from the Greek play translation._

__

art by krisrix

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Text marked by an asterisk is taken directly from Euripides play Orestes translated by Anne Carson. The wording relates so well to themes and scenes in Wayward Son. 
> 
> Fic title from the Ben E. King song by the same name.
> 
> My thanks to @giishu for the encouragement and beta read!


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